


gently in your hands

by wollfgang



Series: L.A. By Night Fluff Fest 2020 [3]
Category: L.A. By Night (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, L.A by Night Fluff Fest 2020, Missing Scene, Nail Polish, Spa Treatments, Vamily Night Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24170245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wollfgang/pseuds/wollfgang
Summary: “I, uh, I used to paint my nails a lot. Before.” Jasper fidgets in his seat.Annabelle has a hard time picturing Jasper fromBefore. Warm skin, normal colored eyes. Blue? Brown? She tries to imagine him with hair, but it looks weird in her mind. She can't see Jasper as anything other than what he is. “Oh yeah?" she prompts.He nods, eyes still on their hands. “Black. Red, sometimes.”Her eyebrows raise. “Goth boy, huh? You seem like the type.”He glares at her, baleful like a cat. Then he snorts. “Something like that.”
Relationships: (background) Jasper Heartwood/Eva, Annabelle & Jasper, Nelli & Victor, The Vamily
Series: L.A. By Night Fluff Fest 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731271
Comments: 14
Kudos: 41





	gently in your hands

**Author's Note:**

> prompt #4 for L.A. by Night Fluff Fest  
> hand touching/holding

"Hey," Annabelle says as she slides into the dark, not at all ominous, SUV. "Campbell have the night off?"

Bailey sits at the wheel. "Yes, ma'am." He watches her until she's buckled in the rear view mirror before pulling the vehicle out.

"Jasper's place is our next stop," Victor says from his position in the passenger side seat. “Then we’ll head to Ritz.”

“I’ve so been looking forward to this,” Annabelle says, already imagining being pampered six ways to Sunday.

It had been a bit of a joke, a quip about broken nails, but Nelli isn’t one to pass up an indulgence when the opportunity presents itself. She reaches over to take Annabelle's hand. "It's high time we got to relax after all this craziness."

"Spa night with the Vamily," Annabelle smiles. "What could go wrong?"

"Don't jinx it!" Victor says.

Jasper is alone when they pick him up at the gas station outside his haven. The flickering lights lend an even spookier slant to his tall, slender stature as he stands and waits.

"There's our boy," Victor says. He indicates for Bailey to pull alongside and Victor rolls down his window, leaning out on his elbow. "Hey, good looking, you headed my way?"

"Shut up," Jasper replies without heat, pulling open the back door. Victor pretends at offense, but is grinning too much to be believed.

Long limbed, Jasper easily steps over Annabelle’s legs to settle into the back row.

“Eva didn’t want to come?” Annabelle asks as he clicks his seat belt, deep hood obscuring everything but the very tip of his grey nose.

He looks up, revealing a sliver of his face. “No, she's busy doing some spellwork.”

"She is more than welcome," Nelli says, a little crinkle in her brows as she leans around her seat to look at him. "I hope she knows that."

"Are you sure she won't come along? She's practically Vamily," Victor says. "This is to celebrate you being back among the unliving, after all."

"We've celebrated plenty on our own," Jasper says, then immediately winces.

"Oh, _have_ you?" Nelli grins behind her shades.

"For fuck's sake," he growls and turtles into his hood.

Annabelle gives his knee a consoling pat. Victor laughs, and Bailey steers the SUV into traffic without further comment.

The spa at the Ritz-Carlton is _beyond_ fancy. Beyond anything Annabelle would ever think she would experience. They are immediately shown inside. Victor and Nelli don't have to say a word before they’re accommodated, staff hovering around to help in any way. The hotel is beautiful. It’s definitely Nelli’s aesthetic, brilliant white and gold, and fantastically expensive.

Jasper sticks close to her, hood drawn up, hands in his pockets. There’s a few glances and whispers at them from the staff, but no one outright asks or prevents her or Jasper from continuing along. They're too caught up with, or intimidated, by the resident Toreador.

They’re shown to the spa by a nervous looking Management member who actually bows to Nelli when he departs. She seems amused, but pleased by the reverence. A spa worker in black scrubs steps forward.

“Hello, my name is Juliette. My team and I will be assisting you today for all your relaxation needs.” She smiles brightly, revealing perfect rows of brilliant white teeth. It reminds Annabelle of Tour Guide Barbie. Three other women stand behind her, smiling to varying degrees.

“Lovely,” Nelli smiles. “Sounds like exactly what we need.”

“Excellent.” Juliette shifts to gesture them forward. “Shall we get started? Drinks for anyone?”

“I’ll take one,” Victor pipes up, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Nelli, dear?”

“Oh, absolutely. Do you have anything...bubbly?”

Juliette turns and snaps. A young woman appears holding a polished silver platter balancing flutes of champagne filed with dark, rich liquid. It smells lovely. Victor plucks a glass and inhales the aroma before sipping it.

“And for you?” Juliette looks at her and Jasper.

“Oh, I’m all right,” Annabelle is quick to answer.

A low rumble vibrates from Jasper. “I already ate,” he says, dry.

Juliette keeps smiling. It’s starting to drift into uncanny valley territory. “Very well. The usual package for you, Miss Griffith?”

“Yes, absolutely. Red Carpets and Detoxes for the others, if you please.”

“I’ll pass,” Jasper says.

Nelli swivels to him. “You might not know this, Jasper, but typically, when in a spa, one tries to _relax_ ,” she chides, one hand waving lazily.

“I’ve been to a spa before, Nelli,” he snaps, irritable.

“Come on,” Annabelle cajoles, keeping her voice soft, nudging him with her elbow. “She’s trying to do something nice for you.”

“I’d rather not have people touching me. Thanks.”

Nelli sniffs. "Suit yourself."

It makes Annabelle wonder why he even came, if that was the case. But she knows it’s hard to sway Nelli or Victor once they’ve got something in their heads.

“Of course, I’m sure we can find other ways to accommodate Mr. Jasper’s preferences. Right this way.” Juliette holds an arm out, indicating that they should proceed forward.

Annabelle is led to a changing room and from there loses track of the others. She dons her _extraordinarily_ soft and fluffy robe and is introduced to a very calm and funny man named Julio.

The next hour or so is a blur of creams and scrubs and hot steam. It does feel nice to be pampered, Annabelle won’t lie. She could only have _dreamed_ to come to a place like this. The prices were staggering, to say the least. She’s massaged by two different people while Julio paints a cooling mud mask to her face. If she could have fallen asleep, she thinks she would have.

Afterwards, they bring her to the main room. Victor and Nelli recline on low chair beds. The undisputed baron is burrito wrapped in foil wearing a white face mask and Nelli's slathered in green goop, eyes covered with sliced cucumbers. Both seem blissed out. Though it’s hard to tell without a rise and fall to their chests as they lie there, completely still.

Jasper is sitting on one of the stools by the nail salon station, hunched in on himself.

He looks...pretty miserable. He’s unchanged, still in his dark clothes and hood up, pulled as far as it will go. Jasper’s got his back against the station, facing the rest of them and the room at large. Jasper watches her walk in, gaze steady in a way that reminds her of nature documentaries on jungle cats.

Annabelle awkwardly hovers by the chairs. A voice that sounds a lot like Carver whispers in her ear, _“It’s the most defensible position. Smart move, in enemy territory.”_

“He’s not in enemy territory,” Annabelle mentally whispers back. “He’s with us.”

The Not Carver in her head merely hums, amused and disbelieving all in one. Well, fuck that. Annabelle walks over to Jasper instead. “Mind if I join you?” she asks.

A laugh, low and bitter, puffs out of him. “Sure. Why not?”

She drags a stool over from another station and sits next to him. “You doing okay?” she asks, jostling into his shoulder.

“Fucking peachy.” He looks at her, some strange mix of hurt and anger. Right. Probably not the most ideal place or activity for him to feel comfortable. “What do you think?”

She isn’t able to come up with a reply, the door opens and Juliette walks in, a few team members behind her.

“Is everyone doing all right?” Juliette asks, her smile perfectly in place. Annabelle wonders if it hurts to keep her face like that all the time.

“Yes, darling, we’re all marvelous,” Nelli replies.

“Five stars,” Victor adds.

Juliette casts a glance towards Jasper, huddled up near the nail salon. “And Mister Jasper doesn’t require anything? Perhaps a manicure?” She nudges one of the girls forward. “Cynthia would be happy to help you.” Cynthia looks at her boss with wide eyes before plastering on a peppy expression and nodding.

“No, thank you.” Jasper’s words are curt.

Cynthia walks closer, heading toward the station. She sits, gaze pointed somewhere over Jasper’s shoulder. “Really, I would be happy to-”

Jasper snarls. The nail tech, Cynthia, swallows. Her hands tremble as she reaches for her equipment. Jasper hunches further in on himself.

“Actually, let me,” Annabelle butts in. She nods at the set up. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

Cynthia directs a fearful glance, first at Juliette, and then toward Nelli, who remains unmoving and covered in algae paste. Juliette’s smile doesn’t waver. “I assure you, it’s unnecessary,” she says. “The Ritz-Carlton prides itself on having an inclusive, accepting atmosphere. It would be Cynthia’s pleasure to assist Mister Jasper.”

Annabelle squares her shoulders and tries to channel some authority. “It’s not a slight against your hotel at all, Juliette, but Mister Jasper and I would prefer to handle this ourselves...” she pauses, trying to copy that mix of threat and confidence Nelli does. “Unless that’s a problem?”

Juliette's smile doesn’t crack, but Annabelle thinks it goes a bit tight. “Not at all. Please make use of any supplies you see fit. Cynthia?” She gestures her back.

The woman doesn’t hesitate, quickly stripping off her gloves and fleeing. Annabelle takes her seat, looks over at him, but Jasper’s expression is hidden by his hood.

“If that’s all?” Juliette asks.

“That’s all,” Nelli replies, unconcerned.

Juliette nods. She and her team show themselves out the door.

Annabelle takes a breath and looks at the nail station. There’s a few things here she’s not familiar with, but she’s had her nails done enough times to know the drill.

“Hands on the table,” she directs, bending down to slide open a drawer to find more files. She sits up and Jasper hasn’t changed position. Just stares at her. She taps the towel. “Hands.”

He huffs and places his hands where she wants them. “You don’t have to do this, Annabelle. It’s fine.”

“I don’t mind,” Annabelle replies. “Unless you really don’t want me to.”

She takes one of his hands. He doesn’t pull away. It’s cold. Of course, it is; both she and Jasper are cold. It strikes her as a bit odd, since, if they’re both cold, shouldn't they feel normal to each other?

His palm is broad and dry with long, almost delicate fingers. She can nearly hear her mother’s voice about hands meant to play the piano and her own ill struck chords. His nails are thick and ragged, true, but it’s nothing that some filing can’t fix.

“What’s the point,” Jasper mutters, drawing her thoughts back to him. “It’s all going to be back to the way it was by the morning. It’s only temporary.”

Annabelle frowns. “Just because something is temporary, doesn’t mean it isn’t _important_ , Jasper.”

“Besides,” Nelli muses from her chair—because, of course, they’re listening in. “If we live as long as we’re aiming for, _everything_ is temporary.”

“Amen, mama.” Victor holds his hand out for a fist bump, which Nelli acquiesces to, despite neither of them having a visual on the other.

Jasper exhales sharply through his nose, a noise half amusement, half derision. Annabelle suppresses a smile. She sets Jasper’s hand down and studies the various tools and bottles on the desk.

“What even is this?” Annabelle asks, peering into a bowl. She tips it closer to her a little and it sloshes, petals floating on the top.

“Rosewater,” Jasper answers.

Annabelle looks up. “Oh.” She gives him a look. “How’d you know that?”

“It has healing properties. Anti-inflammatory.” He shifts. “And Eva likes it.”

“Ahhh,” Annabelle says, knowing. “And how _are_ things with you and Eva?”

“Fine.”

She grins at him. “ _Uh-huh_.” If Jasper could blush, she thinks he’d be flushed pink right now. “Just fine?”

“Yes,” he bites out, glowering.

“All right, all right,” Annabelle says, done teasing him for now. She reaches for a scrub instead. Opens it, sniffs it. It smells warm and sugary. Perfect. “Is it okay if I roll up your sleeves a little?”

He nods.

She takes his wrist, more slender than she expected it to be, and carefully pushes his sleeves back, one at a time. His veins are unnaturally dark, snaking up his forearm and clustering at his wrist. In a strange way, it resembles the marble of the hotel.

Digging out a generous scoop of the scrub, she starts working it into his skin while he watches. She mimics the way the masseuse had worked her own hands, pressing her thumbs into his palms and smoothing outward.

“Smells nice,” he comments quietly.

Annabelle nods. “Helps take the dead skin off.”

“All my skin is dead.”

Annabelle narrows her eyes at him, unsure if he’s being self deprecating or humorous. The edge of his mouth twitches, giving him away. “Jasper!” she plays at shock. “You made a joke!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, but he’s smiling now.

Once he's thoroughly scrubbed, Annabelle wipes his hands down with a towel and then breaks out the file. Jasper's nails are tough, but Annabelle is strong. He isn't much of a talker to begin with and he seems content to sit and watch rather than chat. It eats at her at first, the silence, but then the urge passes and she settles into a zen sort of calm. Each nail is meticulously worn down and evened out. She buffs them smooth and studies her efforts critically. She nods. 

"There. All done."

A flicker of disappointment crosses his face.

"What?" she asks, as he moves back and curls his hands in on the table, tucking his finished nails away.

"Nothing," he says, too quick.

"Are they uneven?" She takes his hands again. She didn't think they were, she thought they were pretty good, if she said so herself. She runs the pad of her thumb against the edges of his nails. They're smooth.

"No, they're fine." He tries to delicately tug himself free.

She looks up. "Then what is it?" She squeezes his palms, firm but not hard, when he doesn’t reply right away. “Jasper?”

He shrugs, uncomfortable. "I just thought we would paint them."

"Oh." Annabelle blinks. "Well, of course we can," she quickly covers, though Jasper clearly doesn't buy it. "That's next. I just didn’t realize you’d want to."

“I, uh, I used to paint my nails a lot. Before.” He fidgets in his seat.

Annabelle has a hard time picturing Jasper from _Before_. Warm skin, normal colored eyes. Blue? Brown? She tries to imagine him with hair, but it looks weird in her mind. She can't see Jasper as anything other than what he is. “Oh yeah?" she prompts. 

He nods, eyes still on their hands. “Black. Red, sometimes.”

Her eyebrows raise. “Goth boy, huh? You seem like the type.”

He glares at her, baleful like a cat. Then he snorts. “Something like that.”

“If you want to, we can paint them black today,” she says.

“Yeah,” he says, low and rough. “I’d like that.”

She jerks her chin towards the rows and rows of polish. "Go pick one out." He stands, looming over the station, and pads silently over to the wall to study the various bottles of dark polish. While he's occupied, Annabelle tosses the used equipment and cleans the table top. No need to be rude guests, after all.

Jasper returns with a little bottle with a handle that looks sharp enough to stab. She reads the label. "Louboutin?"

He shrugs. "Might as well use the good stuff, right?"

"Yes, Jasper!" Nelli calls out, snapping rapidly in a one handed form of applause and approval.

"Oh my God," Annabelle says. "You know what? You're right, what the hell."

To its credit, it's possibly the smoothest nail polish she's ever used. It goes on, glossy and dark, like the ocean at night. A second coat is almost unnecessary, but she adds one just in case. It wouldn't do for it to flake earlier than expected.

She sets them down to dry, his fingers carefully splayed.

“They look nice.” He clears his throat. “Thanks.” His hood dips as he nods toward her. “Should we do yours?”

“Oh, nah,” she decides. “It’ll just chip when I punch someone.” She mimes a good ol’ one-two jab. He doesn’t flinch.

“Right.” He raises a brow. “And what was that moralizing about temporary things being important? Go pick out a color before I use the black on you.”

“Actually, _bossy_ ,” she retorts, “Go ahead and use the black. We can match.”

Jasper waits until his nails are fully dry before unscrewing the ridiculous cap. He looks at her, silently daring her to change her mind. She offers her hand to him, jutting her chin out. He’s as meticulous in this as he is in any study, carefully manipulating her fingers and then applying the polish and in a single, nearly perfect stroke.

Once he’s done she stretches her fingers out and studies them. Annabelle’s gotta admit, they look good. Jasper caps the bottle and returns it to the shelf. “Thanks, Jasper. They look great.”

“No big deal,” he shrugs. “Just returning the favor.”

“Still,” she insists. “I love them.”

Juliette appears once more, sucking any jovility from the room like a black hole pulls in light. She directs them to separate rooms to clean up and get redressed. Jasper jerks a thumb toward the exit. “I’ll see you guys out there.”

True to his word, Jasper is waiting out in the lobby area when she gets back. She takes a seat next to him and plucks a gossip magazine to peruse while they wait for Nelli and Victor, but it doesn’t take long. She’s getting caught up on the latest B-List scandals when Nelli comes sweeping out, Victor in tow. They chat with the spa staff, squaring things away.

Jasper gets to his feet and stretches in preparation of departure. Bones crack and gristle. One of the staff looks mildly ill.

Annabelle puts the magazine down and stands. “Hey, Jasper?” She scuffs the heel of her boot against the tile.

He sighs, aggrieved. “Yeah?”

If she were quicker to anger, she'd take offense. Instead, she lets his annoyance roll off her back. “Thanks for coming with us, even though you didn’t want to.”

He takes a moment to answer. “It’s, ah, not really my thing,” he shrugs. “But I know Nelli meant well.” He grins suddenly, showing off his fangs. “It's not the first time I’ve been dragged unwillingly to a family function. Almost forgot what it was like.”

Victor approaches and puts his arm around Jasper, pulling him around a little. "But way more fun with us, right?"

"Sure," Jasper says, noncommittal, ducking out of Victor's hold. "No one died."

"The night is still young, my friend," Victor cautions. "The night is still young." They begin to exit the lobby and move toward the parking garage entrance. 

Jasper grins again, but with more teeth. "You promise?"

"Quit it, you two," Nelli says, but she's obviously entertained by their antics.

"Yeah, guys, listen to mom," Annabelle teases, just to hear Nelli’s mock gasp of outrage.

“See if I treat you two ungrateful children to a fun night out next time,” she threatens, one sparkly nail pointed at them.

“Oh, no,” Jasper says sarcastically. “The horror. I guess I will just have to stay at home where it’s quiet and safe.”

Victor barks out a laugh. He and Nelli descend into good-natured bickering as they walk to where Bailey waits for them. Annabelle wraps her arms around Jasper’s, one hand drifting down to tangle their fingers together. Their matching nails glint in the dark. He hums, curious, but not objecting. “Annabelle?”

She leans her cheek against his thin shoulder. It’s good not to be alone anymore. Victor and Nelli are still bantering back and forth, even as Bailey opens the SUV door for them. “Let’s do a more low-key activity next time. What about a movie night?” He makes a face. “Maybe board games or something?”

She can feel the small laugh in Jasper’s ribs. But he doesn’t make a sarcastic quip or denial. He tilts his head. “Yeah, maybe.”

She squeezes him, just hard enough to hear him wheeze a bit. “Best Vamily a girl could buy.”


End file.
